I stand at the bottom of the hill.
I look up and I see you at the top of the hill.
I run up the hill in curiosity.
As I run up to you, my outfit changes into a white dress.
I am finally at the top of the hill.
You in your suit, me in my dress.
We walk down the other side of the hill,
My hand in yours.
And as we are walking,
A child appears in front of us,
And we get old.
As we get closer and closer to the bottom of the hill,
Our child is growing up.
Our faces become wrinkled and old,
Our hairs are Grey.
Finally we are at the bottom.
Our child says good-bye and runs to the next hill.
Coffins appear behind us.
We let go of each others hands and lie in our coffins,
Dead together.
